Chapter 3
Anna
Tall. Dark. Handsome.
An electric connection that continued to startle me.
My prince. At least he was exactly as I’d pictured once upon a time.
Yeah, right. He was probably a toad in disguise. However, he was lovely to look at.
The man standing only a few feet from me was the perfect epitome of that and much more. With the gold flecked black mask and in his impeccably tailored tuxedo, he could be considered every woman’s bad boy with attitude fantasy.
He also carried himself as if he owned the ballet or perhaps the entire city. Given every other man at the benefit had been seventy or older, I’d enjoyed the eye candy if only for a little while. However, being this close to him I sensed sheer arrogance and danger, an undesirable combination.
I’d heard he was another benefactor, a rich man with money to burn. I couldn’t care less except the donations were likely the reason I’d been hired during a hiring freeze. The smart girl inside chastised me for flirting with him.
At this point, I was still reeling from emotions that were eating at me. After being asked to participate in the special performance the day I’d walked into the New Orleans Ballet, I’d been shocked and thrilled, able to use one of my own choreographies for the night’s festivities.
The honor had been bestowed on me by Irina herself. She’d been eager and happy to see me join the team.
She’d been just about the only one, other than the choreographer, who had managed to say a few nice things about my dancing abilities before openly criticizing several of the most basic moves. Including my plié, an elementary position.
I’d been mortified, furious with myself and embarrassed at the same time. Even worse had been the haughty attitudes of the other dancers.
Of course with me coming into the group, the announcement I’d be taking the principal dancer’s place for the four-day performance schedule of Sleeping Beauty hadn’t gone over well.
While I couldn’t blame them for their pissy attitude, I didn’t deserve a dead rat in my locker or almost being tripped going down the stairs after practice.
Their horrible attitudes were the very reason I’d left the celebration almost as soon as it was over.
I didn’t need to hear or experience any more of their grief.
I was sorry that they’d been told no one else would be hired for the upcoming season.
I was sorry that they felt lied to, pressured even.
But I wasn’t to blame, for fuck’s sake.
Yet here I was inside a humid elevator with the sexiest man alive and all I could think about was how I was a reject.
Unwanted.
Unneeded.
Lonely and tossed aside.
All the things I’d felt growing up as a child, forced to face once again in New York. Now this. The only good news was that they didn’t have a clue who I was other than the chick who arrived from New York.
Whatever.
I had a slightly new routine to practice, eternally grateful that the ballet was so similar to the one I’d recently performed in New York. Maybe if I set a shining example, they’d leave me the fuck alone.
With several deep breaths, I managed to calm my nerves. They’d even made fun of my costume. Who did that? I thought I looked sexy and alluring as Aphrodite.
And the handsome man was daring to crowd my space. I moved further to the side, crushed into the corner.
“I promise you I’m not in the habit of biting.” His voice was sinfully husky, velvety in a way that enlisted several inappropriate images.
“I’m not worried about you biting.”
“Then what are you worried about?” He had a slight accent that I couldn’t place, which was rare for me. In New York, there were dozens of different dialects and as a little game I used to play to ease the loneliness, I’d make guesses on where the person came from. I’d gotten very good at the game.
But with him, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I’d learned years before how to block my Italian accent and after living in New York studying dialects, I could also emulate almost any accent. I’d used that to my benefit on more than one occasion.
“Whether or not you’re a monster like the ones my mother warned me about.”
“I can attest to the fact I am. In fact, I’ll swear on a bible if you’d prefer.”
His answer caught me off guard. I couldn’t help myself, turning toward him. “I’m curious. Do you get a lot of women that way?”
“What way is that?”
“Being slightly dorky while wearing a tux?”
I was surprised by the effect his smile had on me. After that, I drifted into the shocked category when he turned to face me, crowding my space. While he had his hands in his pockets in a completely non-threatening way, his actions could be considered rude.
But after the day I’d experienced, being admired by a stranger was a nice boost to my bruised ego. Maybe a little flirting wasn’t the worst idea I’d had in the last week. Not by a long shot.
He inched even closer, placing one hand beside my head.
His scent was intoxicating, affecting every inch of my body although I’d never admit it.
While I could tell he was lowering his head, he was doing so with such precision and so slowly that when his lips were mere centimeters away from mine, I licked my own in a moment of defense.
His smile felt like a reward and while the sound of the elevator managed to drown out my rapidly beating heart, the clinking as the steel box moved from floor to floor was unable to hide the single husky growl emitted past his succulent lips.
I’d consider them beautiful lips even for a man.
“I will admit, Aphrodite, that I’ve never been called dorky. Well, perhaps with a single exception.” My mysterious stranger continued his act of dominance by taking the tip of his index finger, brushing it from one side of my jaw to the other.
The tingling sensations were way too powerful, so intense I realized seconds later I was holding my breath.
I was like any other woman, a sexual creature in nature.
However, after the first round of sex had left a bad taste in my mouth, I’d settled for fantasies and fiction, a hefty vibrator and a very vivid imagination.
What would it be like to have a tawdry one-night stand? To completely give in to our carnal needs? Would my priest consider it an abomination? As if I’d stepped foot inside a church since leaving Sicily.
The thought was truly delicious and I had the distinct feeling he could read my mind.
He was more than a half a foot taller than me and with me standing in tennis shoes, the sexy dress suddenly didn’t seem as seductive as I’d had in mind. He didn’t seem to mind by the way his eyes were roaming every inch of my body.
“I’m curious as to when?” I was surprised I managed to speak coherently at all.
The ping of the elevator indicated the destination, but when the doors opened, neither one of us moved. His stare was intense, more so behind the evocative mask. Using the same hand as had touched me, he rubbed his jaw.
The movement brought my eye to the dark stubble covering the lower half of his face.
Not an intentional beard but due to forgetfulness, a man too busy to bother even though his attire was body hugging, tailored only for him.
Even his watch, a stunning onyx piece from band to face, and jeweled with rubies instead of diamonds, screamed of money and power.
What struck even more than his handsome face were his fingers. They were not the mark of a pampered man. His fingernails weren’t perfect and the tips of his fingers were rough, like a man would have who regularly handled hard labor.
I don’t know why, but that thrilled me even more. Maybe he fit into the bad boy category that I and so many other women were hungry to taste.
“In the fourth grade. The first time I decided on my girlfriend for the year.” His voice dripped of innuendoes just like before. He was enjoying himself tremendously.
Why was it that all time seemed to stop? Including with the elevator? And where were all the people coming and going from the ritzy hotel for the night? It felt as if we’d both stepped into an alternate world, a location where I could choose to be anyone I wanted to be.
If only for one night.
Including Aphrodite, which my masked companion seemed to appreciate.
His touch had brought heat to my core, his closeness an ache to my already hardened nipples.
“In the fourth grade,” I repeated. I’d be damned if he didn’t push himself against me for just a few seconds, but long enough to understand the condition he was in.
The mystery man was hard as a rock.
Oh, my God. I was lightheaded, my desire off the charts. Was I considering doing something so irrational and irresponsible as allowing him to…
“Of course. My father taught me to start early.”
“Mmm… I can only imagine how you handled girls then women from there.” I skirted away, moving to step off the elevator. No, I was crazy. But he was a benefactor, which meant he was well known in the city and cared about the arts. He was also a wealthy man.
That shouldn’t matter.
No, my inner voice was correct.
What were the chances he was anything but a powerful, lonely, very sexy man?
Just when I’d almost convinced myself that daring to drop my defenses was a bad idea, I felt his heat once again.
I was only mildly shocked when the stranger grabbed my arm. But I wasn’t terrified or even anxious, which was a rarity in my world. He pulled me so I was a mere inch from his heated body. One hand was already keeping the door open, his fingers of the other digging into my skin as if he owned me.
For that moment and the entire night, I wasn’t Anna or Anastasia. I was Aphrodite, the goddess of passion.
“I came into my own,” he offered.
“You did?” Even my voice had dipped to a dangerously sensual level. I’d just offered him an invitation with my eyes, dropping them directly to the thick bulge between his legs. Holy mother of God. He was huge. And my mouth watered from the thought of trying to wrap my lips around the thick girth.
Who was I suddenly?